


Drifting on a Silver Tide.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: Only Fools and Horses, the navy lark
Genre: AU, Adventure, Apprentice - Freeform, Britain, Gen, Historical, Humour, National Service, Navy, Ocean, Sailors, alternative universe, prior to only fools and horses, royal navy - Freeform, young Delboy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19130890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: AU. It is the year 1959. Del Trotter has been called up for national service and the country has chosen the royal navy as the fitting service for him. Del is sent to a small island off the   coast of Portsmouth, working along side what may be the most useless branch of the royal navy itself. Del will soon  be dragged into the kind of schemes that  will teach him the tricks that will help him in later life.This  story tells the real truth behind how Del Trotter became a   dab hand at wheeling and dealing. After all, he learned from the best.





	Drifting on a Silver Tide.

“Do you have to go, Del?” Granddad asked, looking from Del to the face of young Rodney as he lay sleeping on the sofa, “I mean, think about young Rodders? How are you going to look after him if you’re not here?”

Del hadn’t thought  of that. He  frowned. There was nothing he could do. It had already been decided. He wasn’t  exactly chuffed to be going, but what could he do? Nothing. “I have to,  Granddad,” he told the old man a touch sadly, “I really don’t want to go, but unfortunately it’s like a law or something.”

Granddad nodded, accepting the truth of this. “Ah well, if that’s it then that’s it, ay Del?”

Del nodded again. “That’s right, Granddad. That’s right. I’ll have to go and pack some stuff. I’ll see you later.”

Del made his way into his room, pausing for a moment before taking a seat on his bed, putting his head in his hands and sighing deeply. He really didn’t want to go. He had known that he  could have entered into one of three institutions, the army, the air force or the navy. Del knew very little about any of these military  institutions but he knew that neither the army nor the  royal air force would have suited  him. He wasn’t one for physical training and he didn’t like heights. But he was going in the navy and that suited him fine. If one had to  undergo  one’s national service, then he  supposed that the navy was as good a job as any. He knew he would be gone for a  while but he hoped that it wouldn’t prove to be too much of a waste of his time.

He knew not what would be best to bring with him. As has already  been discussed, Delboy knew next to  nothing about the navy, but he packed what he knew he may need. His clothes were hastily shoved in his  suitcase, along with a few personal effects such as pictures and objects that would remind him of  home when he looked at them later. He packed hurridly, not wishing to prolong the moment of his departure  any longer than was absolutely necessary. Del had never been away from London, and now he was going hundreds of miles away. 

Walking across to his bed, Del picked up the letter that had been lying there all day. It looked almost worryingly official and as he unfolded it for what felt like the millionth time, Del scanned through it, committing the written words to memory.

Portsmouth. That was where he was going. Portsmouth, or to be more specific, a small island off the  coast of Portsmouth. According to the letter, it was unclear what his tasks would be, but it was clear that if the need arose, he would have to join the Portsmouth crew and put to sea if he had to. Del had to admit that he was feeling slightly nervous over having to work for someone else.  He had never been employed in his life, not properly anyway. In working for the naby, Del would be working for someone else. This meant that he would be answerable to someone other than his own self  for the first time in his life. 

The last evening spent with Granddad and young Rodders was difficult, though Del tried his best not to allow his feelings to show too much. He would miss the flat. He complained about this run down flat often but now that he was on the cusp of leaving it for at least two years, he found himself thinking fondly of the times he had spent here, difficult though they had been. 

Fortunately for Del, he had to leave the very next morning and so he  was able to retire early to his room under the pretence of needing a good night sleep. He didn’t sleep much. All night, Del tossed and  turned, wishing that he could descend into the velvety blackness of slumber, but his thoughts kept him awake. Awake and troubled. His mind was full of images of choppy seas in which an able bodied man could fall and be lost for ever. His thoughts were consumed with the sounds of crashing waves, drowning sailors and ships breaking into pieces around him. Those thoughts were certainly not condusive to sleep and he rose early the next morning before the light appeared in the sky, knowing that to fight his fears would be futile. He would not know what would happen until he set foot on the sand of the island that would soon become his home. There was nothing he could do. No good would be gained by trying to forsee the future. Such a thing was not possible.

The sun was rising slowly towards the heavens as Del made his trip to Portsmouth. He was driven in silence through the streets of London, onwards towards the boat that would take him across to the island. Del sat in the back of the car, mind realing and hands tense upon his lap. He watched the houses and streets rushing past him, knowing that the vehicle in which he rode was quickly eating up the miles between his home and the island where he would undertake his national service. He didn’t like it. He didn’t think he could face it and as the car drove Del ever further from his home, he sighed. His situation was becoming ever more real. He couldn’t escape now. He had to go through with it.

“It might make a man of you, Del.” That was what granddad had told him over and over again the previous night, evidently of the opinion that Del wished to hear such cheerful words. After a few repititions of this simple sentence, Del had quickly given up listening. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to think about it.  

 Hours passed. Del opened his mouth not once during the journey. He sat watching the scenery  rushing past their windows at spead. They had left London  behind a long time ago and even though he was not yet on the boat that would carry him towards the naval detachment base, Del was already feeling decidedly home sick. He was not a man given over to outward displays of emotion, but even he  could  think whatever he wanted inside his head.  Nervousness, trepidation. He   could not have felt anything else under the  circomstances.

Portsmouth was approaching. Del could now see  the docks  outside his window and if he squinted through the late morning sunlight, he thought that he could see the boat that was waiting to carry him across to the island. His stomach clenched inspight of his attempts to keep strong. He sat up a little straighter in his seat, determined not to allow whomever would be taking him to the unknown island know that he was feeling nervous. He would put on the  show of easy good humour as he always had before and  He  would let everyone know what a tough young man Derek Trotter could be.

“This is your stop, sir,” the taxi driver said quietly, holding out his hand  to take Del’s change.

 Parting with his money and opening the door, Del stepped swiftly out of the car, making his way across to the boat that was waiting in the docks. Ah, yes. Thhat was definitely a navy ship that was waiting for him. Across the boat’s side, Del read the name written   there.  HMS  Troutbridge. What an odd name. Del hadn’t heard of that particular ship before. He had read the names of  several navy ships in the newspapers but had never heard of HMS Troutbridge.

“Ah,” said a voice belonging to a man standing  a few metres away, causing Del to look up, “it’s Mr Trotter, isn’t it? We were told that you were arriving today.”

The man standing before Del was a  tall one, with dark hair and blue eyes that were looking across at him kindly. Del made his way  over to him, his  trepidation easing slightly. This bloke looked friendly enough he supposed and as he reached out to shake the man’s hand, Del looked him up and down. Smartly dressed with a pristine uniform.  These were his first impressions of the man. He looked important. Del wondered what type of superior this man would prove to be. Would  he be the friendly  sort of chap who would do anything for anyone if that thing would help, or would  he prove to be the sort of man who relished the idea of bullying the lower orders.

“Hi, sir,” Del said brightly, shaking the man’s hand and smiling at him in as  confident a manner as he could, “My name is Derek, but you can call me Del.”

“Lieutenant Dennis Price,” the man replied, “welcome to the royal navy.”

“Glad to be here, sir.”

Price frowned at this display of inthusiasm and shook his head, aiming a slightly disgruntled look across at the looming form of HMS Troutbridge, who’s crew was apparently waiting for Price and Del to board. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Mr Trotter. This ship and the crew that you are to become a part of aren’t exactly what one would call… erm… hard working.”

“Is that so, sir?”

“Unfortunately it is Mr Trotter. To be truthful, this lot are a right shower. But I’ll allow you to  decide this for yourself. If you’ll follow me now, I’ll introduce you to the men who you’ll be working with for the duration.”

Del followed Lieutenant Price across to where HMS Troutbridge was waiting. Price strode onto the deck of the friggit and held out a hand to help Del to step aboard behind him.  

Looking around him, Del could see two other  men, both dressed in naval uniform and looking at him in open curiosity. Del stared back at them   with slight suspicion. Now that  Lieutenant Price had  told him about the supposed lack of  officiency among this crew, he wasn’t entirely  sure what to make of the situation.

“These are our men,” Lieutenant Price said briskly, pointing first at the blonde man standing nearest to Del. “This is Sub Lieutenant Phillips. He is our navigation officer, but how he managed to get his job is a mystery to me.”

The blonde man smiled at Del, “what ho Mr Trotter. Number one told us you would be coming. Glad to have you with us. What has Number One told you about us so far?” His smile was several football pitches wide and Del found himself looking at Phillips with slight incredulity. Was it just his imagination, or did this man look a touch gormless to him? It was probably just him.  

“He said that  this crew isn’t exactly  hard working,” he told the Sub Lieutenant in slight hesitation.

Phillips grinned as if such information didn’t at all trouble him. “Ah well, never mind,” he said cheerfully, “we are known for our difficulties are we not, Number One?”

Standing at Del’s side, Lieutenant Price nodded. “Indeed we are, Mr Phillips, and unfortunately you are the main reason for our difficulties.” He then pointed at the taller man sitting at the helme of the friggit. “This is Chief Petty  Officer Pertwee. He is in charge of naval stores back at Pompy but he is in charge of steering the ship when we’re at sea. Pertwee is another   thorn in my side, another thorn that I have not yet managed to get rid of.”

Chief Petty Officer Pertwee turned to glare at the man standing beside Del. “Well, ain’t that a  perishing liberty, sir,” he said, his voice heavily accented with the dulcitt tones of south London. That voice made Del smile. He was hearing a  voice that reminded him of home.

“Please to meet you, sir,” Del told the Chief Petty Officer brightly.

 Pertwee   smiled. “Glad to have you with us. Oh, you’re going to learn a lot while you’re here with us son, let me tell you.”

 Lieutenant Price, or  Number One as the men insisted upon calling him, nodded with a frown. “Yes, indeed you will Mr  Trotter. It is more than possible that you may learn things that no one else but Pertwee knows as yet. It’ll be an interesting spell of service for you if nothing else.”

“I’m sure sir,” came the expected reply.

Number One turned to address  Lieutenant Phillips. “Shall we get going Mr Phillips?”

Phillips nodded. “I think we shall sir. Hall up the anker please Chief.”

Pertwee  responded upon the instant. “Halling up the anker.”

The friggit  began to move slightly as Pertwee halled up the anker that had been holding her in place. Del looked around, expecting to see a sudden change coming over the small crew. However, he could see only  relaxed  complacency on the  faces  of all who stood on the deck of the Troutbridge with him.

“Alright,” Phillips said  in a  tone that was almost business-like, “considering the    four winds facing us at some sort of angle or other, the fact that we are facing due north south west and  taking into consideration the fact that we  are a few miles away from the  island, I think that, eh…”

Pertwee sighed from his position at the helme. “You think that it’s what, as  if I couldn’t guess?”

Phillips laughed. “Left hand down a bit.”

“Left hand down a bit it is sir.”

 Troutbridge began to move. Del stood bemused. What in the hell had just happened? He didn’t understand a word of what Phillips  had said and couldn’t think why Pertwee seemed   capable of  comprehending him. Left hand down a bit? What did that mean? He had a feeling that such a command was not exactly the normal sort of command that  was usually imparted to the man  steering the ship.

Everyone else seemed to  understand what was going on, even if Del had no idea, and so he stood silently on the deck of HMS Troutbridge, allowing  her small crew to take him  closer to the island that was shortly to become his home. He stood in silence as Phillips gave Pertwee another string of incomprehensible navigational orders, wondering what in the name of God he was getting into. This was a strange situation to have landed himself in. Perhaps being a  national serviceman in the royal navy wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. He was certainly  in for a bit of a wild ride. He knew that one for sure.


End file.
